![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The Long Melt
Apr. 12th, 2023 06:23 amWell, as I write this, it is already well into Aries season. But as a matter of fact, it made sense to wait a bit before writing again. The winter ended up being quite monotonous, with continual snows. They persisted into the very beginning of April. There was a large snowstorm ending the morning of April 1st that dropped about a foot of snow in my area and did frightful damage to the trees all around. This was an impressive front and it included thunder snow, power outages, and a tree falling on my deck and across my driveway. It was the most damaging late winter storm I have seen in a long time.
Be that as it may, signs of spring began showing up in March, even with persistent cold and snow. Already by the middle of March, I was hearing sandhill cranes in the nearby fields. Owing to the amount of snowfall, the fields remained mostly covered in snow, yet the migrants came up as if it was no problem. About a week after that, the first turkey vultures were seen. Now there are large numbers of them congregating around the ridges and hilltops in the area. Perhaps as a harbinger of this, before the coming of the vultures, large numbers of eagles also began to be seen as well by late February. They had remained a rare sight with the ice and deep snow of this winter.
The nearby Minneapolis metro area got just shy of 90 inches of snow this winter. I don't know what the official tally was for Western Wisconsin, but the piles of snow took weeks to melt off. The end result of this was, despite more mild conditions the second half of March, that the air temperature remained quite cool. Too much of the sun's energy was going into melting the snow and not enough into warming the air. As a result, March had a quite chilly character. It didn't help that occasional storms kept adding to the pile of snow. The last one in particular dropped over 1 inch per hour. As bad as all of this sounds, we have it easy in some ways, as the northern parts of Minnesota and Wisconsin as well as large parts of the Dakotas are still covered in snow, while most of ours has finally gone with a wave of much warmer weather.
The warm weather is definitely a mixed blessing. The nearby St. Croix River appears to have risen by about a foot in the last day. Flood warnings are already being put up. Similar warnings have been issued for certain watersheds in the Minneapolis metro area, including for the Crow River Valley, which I used to visit regularly. The ice on Lake St. Croix has a mottled and rotten look about it, as if the ice is all going to break up soon. Along with the surge from melting farther north, the situation could get ugly for low lying properties and roads. Last year the river was very high by late spring. With a recent summerlike pattern, a rapid meltdown of the snow cover up north – still quite profuse in places like the North Shore, with over 2 feet on the ground – could drive the rivers into flood stage. Last time I saw a very severe flooding was in 2019, and that in the Minnesota River Valley with submerged highways. This is something we could see again soon.
So, with the sudden change in weather, is there evidence of spring migration beginning? Absolutely! We still have large numbers of juncos, holdovers from the cold weather and snow, but they will probably be flying north fairly soon. It never got cold enough that we had pine siskins or redpolls this year. But now there are signs of things changing. Goldfinches are getting into breeding plumage. Serious numbers of migrants are starting to appear, having been bottled up for some time in the more rapidly maturing spring of the Lower Midwest. In the past week there have been bluebirds, towhees, meadowlarks, and phoebes appearing in the surrounding area. Just today, I saw flickers and white-throated sparrows as well. Very large flocks of robins have been here ever since March, though they hid out during some of the storms. But the most iconic thing of this time of year is the woodcock migration. I have gone out to listen to them calling from the hillsides these three nights. I heard more of them this year than ever before, but was not so lucky as to see one as I had last year. This is a classic moment in the spring migration not to be missed.
There is a palpable sense of pent up energy from this delayed meltdown. Even at nightfall, I can hear the turkeys gobbling from their hilltop roosts. They are full into their battling for the breeding season, and the females are also visiting the feeder regularly. All of the locals who stay year-round have picked up their activities. Woodpecker displays, chickadees singing their spring song, the piercing call of the tufted titmouse, deafening robin songs at dusk, the warbling of the Cardinals, crows building nests, nuthatches hogging the feeders, and so on. These are daily events. The deer have been constant visitors in fair weather and foul. The coyotes have mostly moved on from this place, the last time I saw the red fox was a few weeks ago. All the signs are very clear, spring is here. Given our part of the world, another wintry setback is not impossible, maybe this weekend even, but by the second half of April I expect spring to take hold for good.
I had wanted to write before now, but I got distracted by a number of things. From the time of my birthday in Sagittarius season until my brother-in-law's birthday in Pisces season, I had an unusually busy time, with many social events including a friend's wedding. The eventual end of this pageantry came as a relief. But by that time other things had happened. For one thing, I had to go up north to my mother's ancestral homeland on an errand, but it ended up being less productive than I thought because the conditions were still quite cold, snowy and wintry up there. The work I had hoped to get done was hopelessly delayed by it. As a result, I will be returning later this month. As part of my pilgrimage up there, I ended up getting caught in a blizzard for one day, and having to wait another one to get plowed out. Nevertheless, it felt good to get back up there, as I had not visited since October. A visit to the Lake country always has a salutary spiritual effect, at least on me.
The other distracting thing was the recent turmoil in the American economy. Ever since the last crisis in 2008, I have done my best to be resilient and recession proof. Nevertheless, I did find it dismaying that so few lessons appeared to be learned from the last crisis. America's banking system was in need of serious reform 15 years ago, and that didn't happen; rather, the corruption continued but on different lines than before. The crisis involving silvergate, silicon Valley Bank, and the signature Bank of New York were as much owing to foolishness as anything corrupt. The basic problem is that interest rates finally have gone up with high inflation, a well-known monetary phenomenon (that is, before our current school of central banking unsuccessfully tried to rewrite the rules of money) and some banks have been caught flat-footed, not wanting to adjust to the times and thinking that the central banks will give them free money again. That ship has sailed. I look at this recent banking crisis as sort of a warning shot across the bow. Obviously this was not Lehman Brothers Mark II, but I can't look at all the signs without feeling a might uneasy. That topic is worth an entry of its own, but I wanted to touch on it briefly as it was part of the backdrop of the past month or so.
There is a strong feeling in the air of things in flux. My own commitments are going to be changing sharply in the next month or so. By late April, the character of 2023 could shift a great deal. A number of things are changing all at once. Economic indicators, social situations, projects needing finishing, upcoming travels, and so on. All of these are conspiring to command a lot of attention for the remaining three quarters of the year. Well, I commenced this piece at the beginning of the hour of mercury, and I now conclude it just as the hour of the moon is struck. I will have more to say on this and other topics as time advances. Until next time, I remain–
Yours cordially,
Deneb Algedi 777
Be that as it may, signs of spring began showing up in March, even with persistent cold and snow. Already by the middle of March, I was hearing sandhill cranes in the nearby fields. Owing to the amount of snowfall, the fields remained mostly covered in snow, yet the migrants came up as if it was no problem. About a week after that, the first turkey vultures were seen. Now there are large numbers of them congregating around the ridges and hilltops in the area. Perhaps as a harbinger of this, before the coming of the vultures, large numbers of eagles also began to be seen as well by late February. They had remained a rare sight with the ice and deep snow of this winter.
The nearby Minneapolis metro area got just shy of 90 inches of snow this winter. I don't know what the official tally was for Western Wisconsin, but the piles of snow took weeks to melt off. The end result of this was, despite more mild conditions the second half of March, that the air temperature remained quite cool. Too much of the sun's energy was going into melting the snow and not enough into warming the air. As a result, March had a quite chilly character. It didn't help that occasional storms kept adding to the pile of snow. The last one in particular dropped over 1 inch per hour. As bad as all of this sounds, we have it easy in some ways, as the northern parts of Minnesota and Wisconsin as well as large parts of the Dakotas are still covered in snow, while most of ours has finally gone with a wave of much warmer weather.
The warm weather is definitely a mixed blessing. The nearby St. Croix River appears to have risen by about a foot in the last day. Flood warnings are already being put up. Similar warnings have been issued for certain watersheds in the Minneapolis metro area, including for the Crow River Valley, which I used to visit regularly. The ice on Lake St. Croix has a mottled and rotten look about it, as if the ice is all going to break up soon. Along with the surge from melting farther north, the situation could get ugly for low lying properties and roads. Last year the river was very high by late spring. With a recent summerlike pattern, a rapid meltdown of the snow cover up north – still quite profuse in places like the North Shore, with over 2 feet on the ground – could drive the rivers into flood stage. Last time I saw a very severe flooding was in 2019, and that in the Minnesota River Valley with submerged highways. This is something we could see again soon.
So, with the sudden change in weather, is there evidence of spring migration beginning? Absolutely! We still have large numbers of juncos, holdovers from the cold weather and snow, but they will probably be flying north fairly soon. It never got cold enough that we had pine siskins or redpolls this year. But now there are signs of things changing. Goldfinches are getting into breeding plumage. Serious numbers of migrants are starting to appear, having been bottled up for some time in the more rapidly maturing spring of the Lower Midwest. In the past week there have been bluebirds, towhees, meadowlarks, and phoebes appearing in the surrounding area. Just today, I saw flickers and white-throated sparrows as well. Very large flocks of robins have been here ever since March, though they hid out during some of the storms. But the most iconic thing of this time of year is the woodcock migration. I have gone out to listen to them calling from the hillsides these three nights. I heard more of them this year than ever before, but was not so lucky as to see one as I had last year. This is a classic moment in the spring migration not to be missed.
There is a palpable sense of pent up energy from this delayed meltdown. Even at nightfall, I can hear the turkeys gobbling from their hilltop roosts. They are full into their battling for the breeding season, and the females are also visiting the feeder regularly. All of the locals who stay year-round have picked up their activities. Woodpecker displays, chickadees singing their spring song, the piercing call of the tufted titmouse, deafening robin songs at dusk, the warbling of the Cardinals, crows building nests, nuthatches hogging the feeders, and so on. These are daily events. The deer have been constant visitors in fair weather and foul. The coyotes have mostly moved on from this place, the last time I saw the red fox was a few weeks ago. All the signs are very clear, spring is here. Given our part of the world, another wintry setback is not impossible, maybe this weekend even, but by the second half of April I expect spring to take hold for good.
I had wanted to write before now, but I got distracted by a number of things. From the time of my birthday in Sagittarius season until my brother-in-law's birthday in Pisces season, I had an unusually busy time, with many social events including a friend's wedding. The eventual end of this pageantry came as a relief. But by that time other things had happened. For one thing, I had to go up north to my mother's ancestral homeland on an errand, but it ended up being less productive than I thought because the conditions were still quite cold, snowy and wintry up there. The work I had hoped to get done was hopelessly delayed by it. As a result, I will be returning later this month. As part of my pilgrimage up there, I ended up getting caught in a blizzard for one day, and having to wait another one to get plowed out. Nevertheless, it felt good to get back up there, as I had not visited since October. A visit to the Lake country always has a salutary spiritual effect, at least on me.
The other distracting thing was the recent turmoil in the American economy. Ever since the last crisis in 2008, I have done my best to be resilient and recession proof. Nevertheless, I did find it dismaying that so few lessons appeared to be learned from the last crisis. America's banking system was in need of serious reform 15 years ago, and that didn't happen; rather, the corruption continued but on different lines than before. The crisis involving silvergate, silicon Valley Bank, and the signature Bank of New York were as much owing to foolishness as anything corrupt. The basic problem is that interest rates finally have gone up with high inflation, a well-known monetary phenomenon (that is, before our current school of central banking unsuccessfully tried to rewrite the rules of money) and some banks have been caught flat-footed, not wanting to adjust to the times and thinking that the central banks will give them free money again. That ship has sailed. I look at this recent banking crisis as sort of a warning shot across the bow. Obviously this was not Lehman Brothers Mark II, but I can't look at all the signs without feeling a might uneasy. That topic is worth an entry of its own, but I wanted to touch on it briefly as it was part of the backdrop of the past month or so.
There is a strong feeling in the air of things in flux. My own commitments are going to be changing sharply in the next month or so. By late April, the character of 2023 could shift a great deal. A number of things are changing all at once. Economic indicators, social situations, projects needing finishing, upcoming travels, and so on. All of these are conspiring to command a lot of attention for the remaining three quarters of the year. Well, I commenced this piece at the beginning of the hour of mercury, and I now conclude it just as the hour of the moon is struck. I will have more to say on this and other topics as time advances. Until next time, I remain–
Yours cordially,
Deneb Algedi 777
Tags:
